Page 40 of Falling Into Forever
“Why do you keep getting close to the water if you’re scared of it?”
“Oh,” she says, sounding genuinely surprised. “I’m not scared of the water.” She lifts her gaze to mine, and her eyes sparkle when they catch in the moonlight. She’s so damn pretty but sadder than I’ve ever seen her. I want to kiss away that pain. Hold her fears. I want to be the man I always said I’d be.
“It’s actually quite soothing,” she says, staring dreamily out over the water. “I just can’t bring myself to swim. That’s a panic I can’t control.”
She opens her mouth wide when she gasps, and it hits me that it was a truth she didn’t mean to tell, but I let her search my face for the love and understanding she’ll find there.
Her gaze drifts to my lips, and her tongue slips out to wet her own. I moved closer as she spoke, and her scent, like salt air and citrus, fills my nose and assaults my mind with memories of us together. I want to kiss her again so much it hurts, but the pain she hides behind shuttered eyes keeps me in place.
I have to go slow.
She leans back on her elbows and stares at the sky, so I do the same. We’re far enough removed from her life in that house that I let my guard down a little. And it’s so easy to do around this mercurial little woman with a giant broken heart because out here, we’re still us.
Her chest rises and falls with a slow rhythm I’m starting to understand only happens for her with great effort. She struggled with anxiety and depression in high school, more so in college, but seeing it in action now, I know she wrote a lot of truths in that book of hers. She calls it the darkness because that’s how it feels when the depression consumes her.
“What are you thinking?” she asks. It’s not quite a whisper, but it matches our gentle surroundings.
“I’m fascinated by how you work and how much of yourself you give when doing it. It’s admirable.” It’s the truth. Even as teenagers, she had more focus than I did.
“Yeah, well, Van Gogh once said he put his heart and soul into his art and lost his mind in the process. I feel that on a cosmic level sometimes.”
She brushes her hand on her leg, presumably to give herself something to do, but it’s her detached tone that rattles around in my mind and causes words to stick in my throat.
How the hell does she lock down her feelings so easily? I’ve been with her for less than a week, and mine are clawing from inside my chest to be set free—for her. She’s not this unfeeling, detached person she’s trying to be, but I don’t know how to get past her wall.
“I bet you do,” I say. “I watched your face as you wrote today. I was completely immersed in the story through your expressions. It must be exhausting living in the hearts of so many characters all the time.”
She shrugs, but her mouth hints at a smile. “At least I’m feeling something I can control.”
A panic she can’t control. I’d bet good money that she’s spent years attempting to wrestle all her emotions into a tiny shatterproof safe so she can throw away the key.
She sits up and leans toward the water, nearly giving me a fucking heart attack, so I use it as an excuse to wrap an arm around her waist and hold her to me. “In case you try to tumble in again,” I say. But even as I say it, we both hear the lie.
My arm fits around this woman like a second skin—like she’s the piece of me I’ve been missing. She doesn’t pull away, even though her entire body has turned to stone, and I mark it as another win. For the first time since she told me to leave Hope Hollow, to leave her behind, I fully understand what a terribly tragic decision that was—for both of us.
“Are you okay?” I ask again. Eventually she’ll have to tell me the truth.
She sighs, and it’s like an exorcism. The tension that controls her body releases one muscle at a time, and she relaxes into my hold. I’m so grateful I swear my heart expands in my chest.
“I’m not used to having people around. Ainsley likes crowds, all the people. She likes the noise even if she doesn’t participate in it. I get lost in it and…”
“And you worry about finding your way out.”
Saylor’s face purses again. I forgot how much I love it when she does that. It means she’s thinking. It means I’m not getting a knee-jerk reaction out of her but a thoughtful, real answer. “Yeah.”
“We need to talk, Sayl. About everything.”
In the distance, a door slams, and it’s like a hypnotist snapping his fingers. It brings Sassy back just when I was getting to see her again as Saylor.
“We’ve talked more in the last two days than I’ve talked to any of my neighbors in months. We are talking.”
It’s too late for the conversation we need to have, so I pivot.
“For what it’s worth, Miss Saylor Sassy Greer, I see all of you. All the pieces that create you are worth knowing and trying to keep forever. The sassy ones. The sweet ones.” I lean in so my nose grazes her ear. “The scared ones. Even the insecure ones. Remember that.”
I stand before she can reply. I don’t want her ruining the moment, and she will if given enough time. She won’t be able to help that mouth of hers. Holding out my hands, I gesture for her to come with me.
She may act sassy, but Saylor is who she’s protecting, and I make it my mission to get to know her—Saylor and all her pieces.
